


Let's Play a Game

by allforoneandoneforanother



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bottom Sleep | Remy Sanders, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Games, Sex in a Car, This is Pure Smut and I'm Not Even Sorry, Top Dr. Emile Picani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allforoneandoneforanother/pseuds/allforoneandoneforanother
Summary: Remy had a long day at work. Emile has plans to make him relax. But of course, no one outside of those two can know what those plans are, such is the rule of the game.
Relationships: Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	Let's Play a Game

Remy opened the car door and fell into the shotgun seat with a sigh. "Hey, babe," he breathed as he leaned back into the seat. "How was work?"

"Looks like you had it worse than I did," Emile noted. "Tired?"

"Understatement," Remy agreed.

Emile looked around outside the car for a moment, making sure that no one was close enough to see what they were about to do. Then, his hand crept its way over to Remy's pants. Remy looked over. "Emile?"

"Ssh," Emile said. "I'm going to help you relax a little. But if anyone outside figures out what we're doing in here, you're as good as dead, understood?"

Remy's eyes widened slightly and his legs shifted. "Yes, sir."

Emile gave Remy a smile and undid Remy's fly with one hand, slipping his hand in under the band of Remy's boxer briefs. They were the blue ones, which Emile had a soft spot for and would pick out for Remy whenever they were going somewhere and Remy said Emile could pick his outfit. Today had been one of those days, and Emile was relieved that Remy didn't demand they wait until they get home to do this. In public was a fun game that Emile loved to take chances with, if Remy was comfortable with it.

When Emile's hand reached the base of Remy's cock, Remy stiffened, but didn't yelp or jump like he normally did when they tried this. Emile grinned. "Good boy, you're learning," he praised.

Emile could feel the result of that little comment, and he laughed a little, rewarding Remy with slow, calculated strokes.

Remy was trying not to writhe under Emile's touch, but Emile could see Remy's aborted motions to try and buck up his hips, to try and sink into the seat further, to follow Emile's hand and get more friction. "Remember, no one can find out we're doing this," he warned Remy.

Remy bit his lip as a small moan left his lips. "I...I know, sir."

Emile turned his head towards the parking lot, but used the rear view mirror to keep an eye on Remy's face. It was growing more desperate by the second, and his forehead was starting to get beads of sweat on it. Emile squeezed Remy's cock and Remy gasped, biting his hand to keep quiet.

No one was walking by, at least, not close enough to be able to make out what Emile said, even if the windows were down. "Poor thing, hm?" he asked. "You're just so desperate for any sort of attention you'll let me jerk you off in the parking lot of the coffee shop where you work? You think that sort of thing is respectable?"

Remy was breathing heavily, holding his shoulders stiff as a board to keep still. "N-n-no, sir, I know it's not," he breathed.

Emile smirked. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

Remy nodded. "Yes, sir. Yes, I'd do anything."

"Anything, hm?" Emile asked, before leaning over to whisper in Remy's ear, "Too bad I'm not fucking you until we get home, then."

Remy whined, just a little, just enough that Emile heard and gave Remy's cock another squeeze. It was starting to leak precum, and Emile knew that within a couple minutes, at most, Remy would be blissed-out putty. "Please, sir," Remy said. "Please, I need...I need...I need you to fuck me. Can we please go home?"

"Once we're done here, yes, I'll drive us home," Emile said smoothly.

Remy panted. "What do I have to do? How do...how do you know we're done?"

"We're done when you come in your pants like the horny little bitch you are," Emile said simply.

"O-oh," Remy breathed. Then, he stiffened as Emile picked up the pace. "S-sir, I can't...I can't keep quiet. Please, can I just...can I just make a little noise?"

"If you're willing to risk someone finding us here," Emile said.

Remy whined but stayed quiet. His eyes fluttered closed as he started leaking more and more, and Emile could tell Remy was close. He slowed his strokes, just a bit, and immediately, Remy was begging him to pick up the pace again, meaningless words leaving his mouth while his eyes were half-lidded and filled with tears. Emile was impressed that while Remy sounded so needy, he looked to the outside world that he might just be struggling to hear some bad news. "You're getting better at this, Rem. You're being such a good boy for me. I'm proud of you."

"Th-th-thank...you..." Remy managed. "P-p-please, please...can I come?"

Emile let Remy squirm a few seconds, before he said, "Yes, you can," before picking up the pace just enough to get Remy to stiffen and his eyes to flutter closed again, lips pressed tight together as he whimpered while he came, rather hard, in his pants.

When Remy had relaxed into the chair, blissed-out putty, just like Emile predicted, he removed his hand and wiped it clean with tissues he kept below the radio. "Pull your fly back up, Rem," Emile said.

Remy complied, shifting around in his chair just a bit before doing his seat belt. "So. Home?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not," Emile said easily, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. "I think that getting some last-minute ingredients for dinner can wait, don't you?"

"Just for a little bit," Remy agreed, staring out the window, before glancing at Emile and grinning. "You really think I'm getting better?"

"I can see it every time we try," Emile said. "You're still a whiny bitch, but you're less obvious about it."

"And no matter what, I'm _your_ whiny bitch. You're stuck with me for better or worse," Remy teased.

Emile rolled his eyes at the ridiculous man he called a husband. "True," he said. "You'd never be able to get rid of me other than by telling me point-blank that you don't want to talk anymore. Even then, I'd be hard-pressed to leave."

"I love you," Remy breathed, leaning back in his chair. "But it's your turn to do laundry this week, and I hope you know you're going to be the one trying to get the cum stain off my boxers."

"The price I pay for having such a wonderful husband who enjoys playing my games," Emile said with a soft smile.

"Emile," Remy whined. "That's not playing fair! Come on!"

Emile just shrugged. "You may be my whiny bitch, but I'm _your_ demanding top. I never play fair if I can help it. I love you."

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all comments appreciated.


End file.
